Chapter 22 #2
Not with heat, with power. I feel it sinking into my skin, into my veins, spreading through my body like wildfire. It doesn't hurt. It's just...overwhelming. Like swallowing sunlight. Like becoming part of something vast and ancient and hungry.
The tattoos on my arms start to glow. All forty-seven of them, lighting up like brands. The newest one, the coin from the last greed absorption, burns brightest.
"Don't fight it," Wren says. "Let it in. Let it bind you."
The gold spreads up my arm, across my chest, down my other arm. I can feel it rewriting something fundamental in me. Creating connections that weren't there before. Tethering me to the house, to Croesus, to everything he is.
I gasp as the binding snaps into place.
Suddenly, I can feel the house. Not physically here, but there, on the other side of the spaces between. I can sense its corridors, its rooms, its heartbeat. And underneath that, I can feel him. Croesus. His presence like a steady flame at the edge of my awareness.
"Good," Wren says. "Now the wards."
She takes my bloody, gold-stained hand and presses it against my chest, over my heart. Begins chanting again, faster now. The power in the circle spikes, and I feel something being carved into me. Not on my skin, deeper. Into my soul.
Protection. Concealment. A barrier that will make me invisible to Heaven's watchers.
But the cost, I can feel it. The tether pulling at me. The awareness that I'll never be completely separate from the house again. Even when I leave, even when I serve the other angels, I'll always feel this connection.
Always feel him.
The chanting stops. The power dissipates. The candles blow out all at once.
I collapse.
Wren catches me, lowers me to the floor gently. "Easy. That was a lot of magic all at once. You need to rest."
I'm shaking. Covered in sweat. My palm is still bleeding, now mixed with gold that's cooling into a thin line across my skin. It looks like a scar. Or a brand.
Croesus is there suddenly, kneeling beside me. "Raven. Can you hear me?"
"I can feel you," I whisper. "The house. You. It's...everywhere."
"That's the binding." His hand hovers over me but doesn't touch. "It will fade. Become background noise. You'll get used to it."
"Will I?" Because right now, it feels like I'm drowning in gold.
"You will." Wren brings over a blanket, drapes it across me. "The first few hours are intense. But your mind will adjust. Learn to filter it." She looks at Croesus. "Help her up. Get her dressed. I'll make more tea."
He helps me sit, then stand. My legs shake but hold. He hands me my clothes without looking, and I dress with numb fingers.
When I'm decent, I sink onto the couch. Wren presses a new mug of tea into my hands, something stronger this time, with honey and herbs that make my head clear slightly.
"How do you feel?" she asks.
"Like I just swallowed a building."
She laughs. "That's accurate. You're carrying a piece of the house inside you now.
It will always feel heavy at first." She sits beside me.
"But the watchers won't be able to track you anymore.
As far as Heaven is concerned, you're part of Croesus’ domain now.
Attacking you would be attacking him directly. They won't risk breaking the treaty."
"So I'm safe."
"Safer. Not safe. There's a difference." She squeezes my shoulder. "But you bought yourself time. Time to research. Time to figure out what your grandmother was trying to do. Time to decide if you're really going to attempt the impossible."
I look at Croesus. He's standing by the fireplace, staring into the flames, and through the new connection I can feel him. Not his thoughts, just his presence. Steady. Solid. Worried.
"Thank you," I tell Wren.
"Don't thank me yet. You haven't felt the full weight of what you've agreed to." She stands. "But for what it's worth? I think you're brave. Or crazy. Probably both." She moves to the kitchen. "Now, let's eat. You've been through a major magical working. You need food."
We stay for dinner.
Wren cooks, simple food, pasta with vegetables and we sit at her small table eating like normal people. Not an angel and a sin eater and a witch. Just...people sharing a meal.
"So," Wren says, twirling pasta on her fork. "How long have you two been sleeping together?"
I choke on my wine. Croesus goes very still.
"We're not." I start.
"Please." Wren rolls her eyes. "I bound you to him. I felt the connection. There's already intimacy there. Physical and emotional. Don't bother lying to someone who just performed blood magic on you."
I look at Croesus. He's staring at his plate.
"It's complicated," I say finally.
"It always is with angels." She takes a bite. "My advice? Enjoy it while it lasts. Don't overthink it. And for the love of the old gods, use protection. Half-angel babies are a nightmare."
I sputter. Fuck, I’m the descendant of a half angel. Not one of the seven but there are way more just regular angels out there lingering on the edges of human awareness. "We're not..." I try again.
"Yet. But you will be." She grins. "The binding accelerates things. You're tied to him now in ways that will make resisting each other difficult."
Heat floods my face. "That's not why I agreed to the binding."
"I know. But it's still a side effect." She looks at Croesus. "You know this, right? That binding her to your house means she'll feel your emotions, your desires, your hunger? And you'll feel hers?"
"I know," he says quietly.
"And you did it anyway."
"I did it to protect her."
"Sure." Wren's smile is knowing. "Keep telling yourself that."
We finish dinner in awkward silence. But I like her. Despite, or maybe because of, her bluntness. She's real. Honest. Not trying to manipulate or control or play political games. Just a woman who lives in the spaces between and tells the truth.
When we prepare to leave, she hugs me. "Come back anytime. You're always welcome here. And if you need help, real help, not just wards, you let me know."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I ask.
"Because I liked your grandmother. And because I think you're trying to do something good. Something that needs doing." She pulls back. " I've been alone for two hundred years. It's nice to have a friend."
"I'd like that," I say. "Being friends."
"Good. Now get out of here before the tea wears off and you pass out from magical exhaustion."
The journey back through the spaces between is easier. Or maybe I'm just too tired to be scared.
Croesus keeps hold of my hand, and I can feel him through the binding now. Not just his presence, but emotions. Concern. Relief. Something else I can’t pinpoint.
When we step through the mirror back into the House of Gold, I nearly collapse again. The binding pulls at me, welcoming me home, and the house feels alive around me in a way it didn't before.
"Easy," Croesus says, steadying me. "Your room or mine?"
"Mine. I need..." I need space. Need to process. Need to figure out what I just agreed to.
He walks me to my room and helps me inside. I sink onto my bed, still feeling the gold in my veins, the tether pulling at my chest.
"Get some rest," he says from the doorway. "The binding will settle overnight. By morning, it won't feel so intense."
"Croesus?"
He pauses. "Yes?"
"Can you feel me? The way I can feel you?"
A long silence. "Yes."
"What does it feel like?"
"Like having something precious just out of reach. Like wanting and having simultaneously. Like..." He stops. "Get some rest, Raven."
He closes the door before I can respond.
I lie back on my bed, close my eyes, and focus on the binding. On the thread of gold connecting me to the house. To him.
Through it, I feel his presence moving through corridors. Sense his emotions, worry, possessiveness, something that might be longing.
And underneath all of it, the hunger. Always the hunger. The greed that defines him.
But now I'm part of it. Woven into it. Bound to it.
I should feel trapped. Should regret this choice.
Instead, I just feel tired.
And strangely, impossibly, safe.